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Ripple Effect
Silver Lake Stronghold, Laxisour Conrad Schumander died that day. His bullet was stopped by Cyril in midair, and suddenlt reversed at high speed. As it entered his chest backwards and came out the other side, the world blurred and he could hear Landell screaming. He wanted to die, to embrace the painless feeling of death, but there was still one thing left to do. McIntyre had been very specific about the activation of his time-stop, only to use when Cyril was going to escape. He reasoned: If Cyril killed Sirovsky and Landell, he would be able to escape. The little circular device on his combat suit was so small, he at first doubted it would do its job. But it did all right. The wave of temporal energy burst out of it like ripples in a pond. Out of the corner of his fuzzy vision, Cyril fell to his knees. Landell would just take him prisoner now, and bring him- But Landell's automatic gunfire did not stop. Satellite Beta-55, orbiting Laxisour Michael and Gillian Valentine worked furiously to maintain their work. If they slipped by one bit, it would all be over and Klopp would order them killed. Overseer Lane stoop facing Klopp onscreen. The Director's face was calm and collected, by Lane knew from his previous conversation that there was a storm brewing behind that tranquil expression. "Surrender, or my men will board your satellite." "Never." Lane's expression was that of a determined defender. "All the men here are loyal to me, not you, Klopp. Not ever." "Then you die." Fourteen floors below, a hatch exploded as a boarding module jammed its way into the opening. Klopp's Flagship "Stupid, arrogant people," he complained to no-one in particular, "leading yourselves to death." He looked once more at the image of Lane, and cut the signal in disgust. Silver Lake Stronghold Cyril's lifeless body toppled to the floor. Landell breathed heavily, and slung his rifle. Jenny Sirovsky put a hand on his shoulder. "We were supposed to take him alive." "I guess it's too late for that now," replied Landell, casting a wary glance at Schumander's still form. Satellite Beta-55 Jake McIntyre was teleported up to the control room just after he had used the centuries-old phrase "Beam me up, Scotty". At the moment of arrival he asked the battle strategist for the situation report. The strategist informed him that the invaders had advanced five floors, and were being held back by a barricade on the sixth. A barricade that wouldn't last, added the strategist. Silver Lake Stronghold Shaw's party crashed through the last shifting barricade that was a pile of couches and kicked the last enemy trooper in the face. The man staggered backwards and was quickly dispatched by Winters. As the images of the corridors dissipated, the team stumbled out into an atrium, with three doors leading either way. There was a massive globe set into the centre of the atrium, and beneath it were Landell and Sirovsky. "Nelson, I'm sorry." Landell said without looking up. "I'm so, very sorry." "What are you talking about?" Then Shaw saw the body. "Oh, dear." Satellite Beta-55 "If I am going to die, Klopp, then I want to die with dignity." Jake said over the intercom to Klopp's ship, after having removed his combat suit. "You're not worthy of a Director." There was no reply. He switched the transmission off and turned to Gillian. "Do it." Klopp's Flagship Klopp frowned again as he stared at Lane's image. "Do you want a last wish?" he asked mockingly. "No." "Then want?" "I just wanted to say that...after all I've been through, I have never met a worse arsehole than you." And with that, he raised his middle digit in front of Klopp. The man suddenly flickered out of existance. A hologram!, thought Klopp. At that point, an escape pod, whose fuselage had been strapped to a PMI rocket and piloted, turned off its cloak and smashed through Klopp's bridge, killing half the officers instantly. Lane then detatched the PMI rocket and it landed on the floor, leaking antimatter. His ship exploded, sending the lethal particles spraying accross the room and killing him. Klopp was doused in the substance, and had the horrible privilege of being turned into raw energy. Beta-55 The barricade fell. A hundred soldiers under Klopp's command rushed in and prepared to open fire on the next barricade, when Jake McIntyre's voice boomed over the intercom. "Ceasefire!" Everyone knew his voice. The staccato of gunfire died down instantaenously. McIntyre and Michael Valentine walked down the corridor on the sixth floor. "Klopp has lied to you. Cyril can no longer escape; he's dead." Michael piped up. "An election will be held to determine the next Director. Klopp is no longer in command." The intruders looked confused. "As of three minutes ago, Overseer Lane has sacrificed his own life in order to abolish the tyranny created by him." One of the commanding officers stepped forward. "With all due respect, sir, there will be no election." "Why?" "The protocol's been changed sir. If the Directorate should fail once again, Mr. McIntyre here shall be appointed as the new leader." There was silence. MCIntyre spoke first. "Now that's new."